


Mood

by hellostarlight20



Series: Shall We Dance [4]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kissing, Romance, TARDIS stuff, moods
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 03:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6887956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellostarlight20/pseuds/hellostarlight20
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set post-The Parting of the Ways, the TARDIS grapples with these suddenly strange feelings and Nine and Rose grapple with their feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mood

The TARDIS did not like this. Not one bit. This…this what was it? What did one call this bigger on the inside thing? _Feeling_. Close, but no, what were these shifts called? Moods. Yes. She did not like these _moods_.

Not one bit.

But then She always knew Bad Wolf. And always was one half of Bad Wolf and it never bothered Her before.

She knew what would happen and did happen and might happen and had happened when She agreed with Her Wolf to open Her Heart and join together. No matter how many timelines She saw and experienced and witnessed and created, the TARDIS knew without doubt or hesitation or uncertainty this was the timeline meant to be.

Still. These…these _moods_ had to go. They were beneath a complicated event in time and space such as She.

On the other hand, the TARDIS now understood what it was about Her Wolf that was so special. Oh, She knew from the start the Human was special. There was a reason, after all, She landed in when she did.

Sure, sure, the Autons needed to be stopped. But so did the Gelth and She could’ve landed in 1869 Cardiff just as easily as London. Or taken Her Thief to UNIT and the man with the funny hair on his face Her Thief knew lifetimes ago. Any time, any place.

The TARDIS chose Her Wolf. And now, with the glorious singing and merging and assimilation—would reunion be going too far?—She could almost articulate Her feelings.

Unfortunately, Her Thief wasn’t having any of it. Pity.

“What were you thinking?” he asked. No, demanded.

Hmph. Well, She was used to his demands and his negligence and his very unique form of flying and maintenance. She chose to no longer accept it. And arched a spark at him.

Her Thief frowned. “What’s got into you? Did Rose hurt you when she opened your Heart?”

He caressed her panel now, and She purred. Hmmm, maybe these moods weren’t so awful.

“Is the TARDIS all right?” Her Wolf asked.

She hummed and glowed and brightened considerably. Her Wolf’s mind shone brightly back and reached out to caress Her.

“Fine.” The word was short. And ohh, angry. So that’s what that emotion was. _Anger._

The TARDIS reached deep into this new well of moods-feelings-emotions and searched for anger—oh but She felt that before. The seething heat of anger. Anger over the way Her Sisters had been treated and over the needless loss of life. Over the very existence of the Daleks. Over the negligent cruelness and pompousness of the Time Lords.

Her Wolf shrank from his anger—no, not anger. _Fear._ His fear.

But why did he fear so? The TARDIS always did things very specifically and ensured his mate came to no harm, in fact took extenuating care not to harm the Wolf. As if She’d ever hurt the only creature brave enough to ask Her for help in saving the man they both loved.

Ohh, what was this? This seething abyss of…of resentment. Jealousy.

Huh, well that wouldn’t do. Nasty, dirty thing, jealousy and She did not like it. Not one bit…hmm, what sort of measurement was a bit, anyway? A bit of time, but that was no real measurement and She certainly didn’t run off computer bits—lowly, inefficient things they were.

“You could have died!” Her Thief said.

Oops. What had She missed?

“So could you!” Her Wolf shot back. “Sending me away like that, like I was nothing.” Her voice cracked but she didn’t back down. “Do you know what I told Mum and Mickey?”

Yes, that was Her Wolf. And ohh, what was this new feeling—pride. Yes, pride and the TARDIS quite liked _that_ feeling.

“I told them,” she continued, voice thicker now. Huh, how’d she do that?

Her Human was so fascinating. But she stepped back and looked up at Her Thief, eyes glistening with that moisture—what did Her Thief call it? That stuff that fell from Her Wolf’s eyes when she apologized for causing the paradox and bringing forth the reapers.

When she laid down on the bedroom floor and hugged Her as best as possible and said how sorry she was for killing Her.

Tears.

Her Wolf cried tears. And suddenly the TARDIS wanted to—to _hug_ Her little Human. Comfort her.

“I said it was a better life, traveling with you.” Her Wolf shook her head. “Not that the only reason I stay is to travel or see new things.” Her Wolf waved a hand and the TARDIS watched, amazed. She wanted hands…

“Doctor, you showed me a better way of living your life.” Her hand reached up and cupped his cheek. “You don’t just give up. You don’t just let things happen. You make a stand. You say no. You have the guts to do what’s right when everyone else just runs away.”

“Rose.” Her Thief’s voice cracked.

Something in Her did, too—the emotion was so powerful, so big and immense and significant even Her vast knowledge had no word for it.

Her Thief grabbed her close—didn’t that hurt?—and hugged her tight. Oh, She’d seen them do that quite often so She supposed they both liked it. Though honestly She’d never understand that particular quirk of corporeal life forms.

Then again, She did like a bit of caressing Herself…

“I did it to keep you safe. That was the only thing that mattered.” His big hands cupped her face and he leaned closer. “You were safe at home with the TARDIS and if you were alive I could do what needed doing. I could do anything.”

Her Wolf flushed. Or maybe that was this new thing within Her, this immensity of feeling.

“Doctor.” Her Wolf poked Her Thief in the chest but he didn’t release her. Merely watched her with that same look, that same nearly indiscernible expression of…of tenderness and affection and— _love_.

It flowed through the TARDIS, big and warm and She sniffled. Or would have if She had a nose.

“And how do you think the TARDIS felt?” Her Wolf demanded. “Keeping Her on a street corner for no one to remember, gathering dust, unnoticed.”

The TARDIS shuddered. She saw that timeline and it—what was the word, that odd colloquialism? _Sucked._ Yes. It sucked. And She was more than pleased that particular timeline would never and had never and never ever came to be.

“She’d have had you,” he whispered.

Awwwww…

Her Wolf sniffed again. She felt a little teary-eyed, too. Or was that a coolant leak? How embarrassing…

“I can’t lose you, Rose Tyler.”

“You won’t.” Her Wolf pulled back. “Ever. Stuck with me, you are.” Her smile blossomed and She felt a little lighter Herself. One smile lifted both Her and Her Thief’s mood. Amazing.

“No matter what,” she whispered and took his hand. “I’ll be with you.”

“Rose Tyler.” He swallowed and shook his head.

The TARDIS heard him speak that name so many times and always in the same way. As if those two words encompassed the entirety of his existence. And maybe it brought a tear to Her eye. Figuratively speaking, of course—She didn’t actually have eyes, unless one counted the Eye of Harmony.

Which probably didn’t count.

Her Thief kissed Her Wolf.

She couldn’t help it, She sighed a long drawn-out breath. How did these creatures deal with such—such…everything? It was amazing and exciting and exhilarating. How were such tiny, non-transdimensional, corporeal creatures able to handle such breadth of—of emotion?

They were still kissing. She looked from the corner of her (hypothetical) eye and watched Her Thief walk Her Wolf backwards, press against Her coral—hey now! None of that thank you very much.

She cleared Her throat. Or in this case, gave a disgruntled huff through Her Time Rotor. It barely dented the bubble they had around themselves. So this was how it was going to be.

Well…fine then.

Mind made up, really She never had seen Her Thief so very happy, the TARDIS pushed aside Her shuddering dislike of Her favorite Captain. After all, it wasn’t his fault he now existed in an even more complicated time and space way than She. And if Her Wolf wanted him around for eternity who was She to say no?

Well, She hadn’t, had She.

So She pushed aside that discomfort and agreed with Her Thief’s original suggestion. The one he tried to suggest after Daleks and death and saving Her Wolf from burning. And not burning up himself. 

They’d go to one of those planets where he dressed in that tux thing and Her Wolf in those fancy dresses she liked so much. And they’d dance.

The TARDIS did so enjoy it when they danced, brightened the entire console room, it did. She peaked at them again—still kissing and still against Her coral. She’d have to scrub it now. Well. Humph. Then again, they did seem happier. She’d take it.

 ********  
They landed by the mineral lakes of Tandonia. A beautiful planet full of tall, lush greenery and a vast expanse of interconnecting lakes, it looked as untouched and unspoiled as the documentaries about rainforests Rose used to watch.

She watched a bird, a lovely fluffy-feathered creature with a long, swishy tail in the most vivid reds imaginable soar with the warm wind currents. The Doctor’s fingers tightened around her but she didn’t look away from the brightly colored creature, the same colors as the mineral lake they stood beside.

Swirling reds and blues and purples and colors she wasn’t even sure she had a name for. They bled and blended and created new colors and were so…so intense—concentrated and powerful, she didn’t know how to even describe them.

Suddenly Rose wanted to sketch the bird, the lakes. Sketch the Doctor standing there, in the tux that hugged him just right. Did the blue of his eyes match this trail of blue in the lake?

She stepped forward to compare.

“What are you thinking?” His quiet voice brushed over her.

Rose tore her gaze from the lake and to his intensely beautiful blue eyes. Her lips parted to tell him exactly what she was thinking but Rose stopped. Abashed, she shook her head, just the slightest negative move, and offered a soft smile, a gentle upturn of her lips.

Maybe someday she’d tell him…

“What’s the gala for?” Rose asked in a hushed voice, afraid to break the silent beauty of this paradise.

Or the understanding, the silent—agreement? Rose wasn’t entirely certain what now lay between them. The softness in the Doctor’s eyes whenever he looked at her, that gentleness he no longer tried to hide. The way he held her closer now, longer, with gentle caresses and whispered words.

Brushed lips over hers, along her palm, her inner wrist.

Rose’s heart pounded harder and her lips tingled and that warm flush of need moved through her. She didn’t bother to try and tamp it down. Not now, not anymore. Not since opening the Heart of the TARDIS and joining with Her. Since saving the Doctor and Jack, the entire universe, from the Daleks.

Now, as they carefully made their way across the stones surrounding the mineral lakes, Rose kept her hand in the Doctor’s and swore the connection they shared whenever they touched strengthened.

Amplified, hummed along her skin and in the back of her mind. Or maybe it was her time as Bad Wolf, with the TARDIS still singing in her head.

No, she felt it before whenever they touched. That—that link or connection joining her to the Doctor when they held hands. More recently, when they kissed. It lay there, strong and powerful and uniting them on a level Rose didn’t understand but embraced.

Wholeheartedly embraced. Oh did she embrace it!

“The Prince of Tandonia is getting married today,” the Doctor said in that same quiet voice as he carefully guided her across the lakes.

Rose noticed he didn’t say one word about her shoe choice. But then, this time, he hadn’t hid his appreciation of her legs, either. Jack had whistled when she walked into the console room, but the Doctor hadn’t even bothered to glare like he normally did.

No, the Doctor stared at her with that soft look. The one that warmed her heart and set her afire at the same time.

And just where was Jack? He’d kissed her cheek, winked at her, and disappeared. Rose hoped he enjoyed himself tonight but didn’t worry overmuch. In a few hours they’d either all meet back at the TARDIS or one or the other of them would need bailing out of jail.

Rose hoped for the former. She prepared for the latter.

“Is this the royal reception then?” she asked and let him help her off the stone bridge.

“Sorta,” he hedged.

She watched him but he didn’t seem in a rush to continue along the path. Instead he took her hand and brought it to her lips. Rose trembled from the touch. The light coolness of his lips on her sensitive skin. Skin so receptive, so eager for his touch. She no longer needed to hide her want of this fantastic man; that want, that desire, that all-embracing craving had only magnified.

Intensified.

“Adelaide Fontana Brooke,” he said and brushed his lips over the backs of her knuckles.

Rose forgot how to breathe. Just when she thought she’d grown used to seeing the Doctor in a tux, or him touching her far more intimately than before, or _kissing_ , their relationship changed again. Not changed, she supposed—deepened.

She embraced it with everything inside her.

“Hmm?” What was he saying?

“He’s the first Tandonian to marry a Human.”

Rose stilled, mouth in a small _O_. “The first?” she managed.

“Adelaide’s great-great grandmother was the first woman to colonize Mars. Captain Adelaide Brooke and her expedition died on Mars,” he said, still watching her with that soft look she might never get enough of. “But her granddaughter was the first Human to pilot a lightspeed ship. Made it all the way to Proxima Centauri.”

“And what did she find there?” Rose said.

She cared, really she did—Human history (future) fascinated Rose. But the Doctor looked at her like she hung the stars and held his hearts, and she forgot who the ‘she’ in that sentence referred to.

“Hexagarians.” He shrugged. “But that’s not the point. The point, Rose Tyler—” she again shivered with the way he said her name, as if he caressed each word—“is that tonight is the gala where Adelaide Brooke’s great-great granddaughter marries the Tandonian prince.”

“Humanity reaching the stars,” she said and squeezed his hand.

“Humans touch every star in the universe,” he agreed. Tugged her closer, fingers twining with hers. “Adelaide Fontana Brooke might be the first Human to marry an alien with all the pomp and circumstance associated with it, but she wasn’t the first.”

Her heart flipped and beat double time.

She licked her lips and tried to keep her thoughts—wild fantasies and hopes and dreams—in check. The Doctor’s fingers brushed down her cheek, across her jaw, along her neck. It sparked again, the longing.

Suddenly Rose didn’t think it was hers. Not entirely.

She tried to reach for it, to grasp it and open herself entirely to that feeling—the longing or hope or want, this thing between them that simmered beneath her skin and beckoned her closer. Ever closer.

“Doctor?” she asked, hope and courage and optimism coating her voice. She swallowed hard.

He didn’t say anything. But he did move or she did, Rose didn’t know. Suddenly his lips were against hers and her fingers cupped the back of his neck and his beautiful, large hands gripped her hips, fingers brushing the small of her back.

Her tongue slid against his, tasting him, feeling him, opening herself to him. Rose shuddered and pressed closer.

“Rose,” he groaned.

There. She took it, held it, cradled it to her heart.

“Oh.” Rose jerked back and stared at him.

It blossomed and sparked to life, spread along her skin, danced over her nerves. And settled warm and vibrant in the back of her mind—stronger, so much stronger than even a minute ago.

“What was that?” she asked, lips barely moving.

“That, Rose Tyler,” the Doctor whispered, his breath cool along her cheek. “Was a kiss.” He pressed his lips to her temple and she felt it again.

A cool warmth that touched her—all of her in a way Rose didn’t have words to describe. As if the Doctor took her very essence, her heart and soul, and cradled her to his hearts, too.

“No.” She jerked back but not away. “That.” Rose frowned, fingertips touching her temple. “It—it felt like a spark, a…I don’t know. Flash or something.”

“A flash?” The Doctor frowned. His fingertips brushed her temple, followed the path of her own fingers.

“There.” Rose caught his hand and held his fingers to her skin.

She met his gaze. Among the mineral lakes and the warm, bucolic breeze, and the rainforest scent, she watched him. His blue-grey eyes darkened and his normally expressive face shuttered.

Oh, Rose knew that look. Knew the Doctor and knew he was about to run. Again. This time she refused to let him. He’d done that once, yelled at her on Braxiq when she kissed him. When he kissed her back then realized what he did or remembered who he kissed or whatever had happened.

Not that they talked about it. Of course.

_Not today, Doctor._

She would not let him run today. Or any other day for that matter.

The Doctor tried to pull his hand away but she tightened her grip. His fingers curled around hers.

“What is that?” she whispered. “That—that glow or…or I don’t know what.”

“I didn’t think you felt it.” His voice was tinged with such awe, so low and rough and longing, Rose blinked. “I didn’t think you could.”

“What?” She licked suddenly dry lips. “Feel what?”

“The—the telepathic connection.” And the words were said in a rush.

Rose frowned. “Is that was this is? I’ve felt it for ages—whenever we held hands, since…” she trailed off and struggled to think when she first noticed it. “Cardiff?” she wondered. “No, before that.”

The Doctor startled; shook, a shuddering breath of movement. Despite his penchant to run and her fear of him doing just that, Rose loosened her fingers around his. Softened her look, eased closer to him as she would a frightened animal. 

“I think,” she said and wondered if she was right or if she only hoped it went that far back. “I think I felt it when you took my hand before I even knew who you were. And you went on and on about the turn of the Earth or some such.”

“Rose.”

He looked terrified and awed and a hundred other emotions Rose couldn’t separate. His fingers tightened round hers even as he stepped back. She refused to let him.

“How could you?” The Doctor’s voice broke and he looked at the sky for a long moment. His arms twitched as if he wanted to cross them over his chest; one hand scrubbed over his hair. “I mean when you opened the Heart of the TARDIS, I thought you’d have to have a connection with the ship.” The Doctor shook his head.

It took him a long while to continue, but Rose waited patiently. For him, she’d wait forever.

“When you released the Heart…the Vortex, I didn’t…I never…those tests, all those tests I did on you after, they all came back just fine. No damage.” His fingers tightened around hers, eyes broken. When he spoke again his voice cracked. “I was terrified you died. No one’s meant to have the entirety of the Vortex run through them. I’m not even sure how the TARDIS makes it work.”

His joke fell flat but Rose managed a smile, silent and waiting for him to continue. In the—what, two weeks?—since saving him and Jack from the Daleks, they hadn’t exactly talked about _how_ she managed to save him and Jack from the Daleks. He took her to London to reassure Mum and Mickey all was well, the universe was saved, and no harm had come to her.

And then ran a three-day battery of tests. On both she and Jack. During all that time, Rose heard the TARDIS’s gentle hum surrounding her as she waited for the Doctor to satisfy his curiosity. His terrifying fear.

“She wanted you safe.” The words sounded in her voice but Rose didn’t remember speaking them.

The Doctor’s hands tightened on her shoulders and Rose blinked up at him. “Rose.”

She shook her head, cleared her throat. “We both did. It wouldn’t have worked if She hadn’t known…”

_How much I love you._

Deep in her—her heart or her soul or whatever may or may not have remained of her connection to the TARDIS—Rose knew now was not the time to tell him. Not with the Doctor looking overwhelmed and confused and torn between running another thousand tests or running for the hills.

Rose broke the moment, move to straighten his bowtie. “Your tie’s crooked.”

She smoothed her hands down his chest, over his hearts, never breaking eye contact with him. His hands settled on her hips and they stood close, so close together for a long, intimate moment.

“Let’s go see this gala, eh?” she whispered into the gently caressing breeze. “And then we’ll figure it out. Yeah?”

Slowly the Doctor nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t move for a long minute, but then dropped his hands from her face only to take her hand in his. Rose sighed in completion. Holding his hand felt natural and real and perfect. She expected doing more—kissing, making love—would feel the same. Feel magnified.

“Tell me about the Tandonians?” she asked in a complete change of mood. Rose wanted more, yes, but the new openness between she and the Doctor required delicacy.

They’d take things slow, one step at a time. For the Doctor and for herself. Because this change in their relationship wasn’t just a big step.

It was everything.


End file.
